"You should feel free to be as empowered as you wish, because this is the one week of the year in which we are encouraged to do so!" Pastorek has chosen Lily Allen as her WS-EW mascot, "Because she curses like a really smart sailor. Because she suffered true tragedy quietly, but suffers small indignities as loud as she can. Because she hates Perez."

But seriously: Since there's barely any media coverage, no lapel ribbons and virtually zero awareness of Women's Self-Empowerment Week, it's up to you to figure out how to celebrate. And to ask yourself: Do we even need a Women's Self-Empowerment Week? Doesn't its very existence assume that women are not taking charge of their own lives and making decisions for themselves? And! Is there something patronizing about the concept of a week for "self-empowered" women? Pastorek groans, "I hate the idea that as women we need to tiptoe up to our strength like a heavy barbell and be condescendingly applauded when we lift it."

And what if you've never thought of women as anything but empowered? Maybe your grandmother was tough as nails, your mom could bake, wrangle kids and make snap-decisions about real estate and fashion without mussing her Cher hair and hip-hugging bell-bottoms, and your sister plays guitar and breaks hearts with ease. Maybe to you, women and power are like peanut butter and jelly and you can't imagine one without the other. Does that mean you can't "celebrate" this very special week? And what's the appropriate way to enjoy WS-EW? Suggestions welcome.

Celebrate Women's Self-Empowerment Week! Unless You Happen To Find It Totally Ridiculous! [EW]

While I was raised Catholic, I can relate to Bosch’s description of the secularized Christmas holiday. For Bosch, Christmas means tangled lights, cookies, nutcrackers, Law & Order, and family. Bosch admits that she once felt guilty about her family’s Christmas, especially after years of listening to others bemoan the bastardization of the holiday. Fortunately, she comes to realize that “to say that the secularists injure the Christmas spirit is much like the claim that two men getting hitched will besmirch the sanctity of marriage.” I can wholeheartedly agree with this statement, because Christmas has never been about Baby Jesus’ birthday for me either. So tomorrow, I hope that all us atheist, agnostic, and generally unaffiliated Jezebels can eat loads of cookies, drink some eggnog, spend time with our families, and watch Law & Order without feeling a trace of guilt. And that’s exactly what I’ll be doing. [Slate]

[Image via How Stuff Works]

As Slate tells it, these pageants are sometimes about anything but the Christmas spirit.

Often, one of the biggest struggles of the pageant season is fierce, parent-driven competition over parts. It doesn't help when roles like the Virgin Mary and the angel Gabriel are thought to be valuable padding for a college résumé—a great part demonstrates an interest in the theater and church!—making for a tense atmosphere at auditions if unchecked by ministers and pageant leaders.

While we don't know what colleges are looking for nowadays, it seems like the transcript benefits would be small potatoes compared to the glory of playing the mother of God. Either way, it's a Big Deal. One minister describes the classic casting-call strategy of showing up dressed for the part you want - a practice that led to 16 hopeful Virgins one year. Even more shocking to those of us who envision a peaceful ritual of gilt stars, baby dolls and Book of Luke, is the flat-out, almost Medieval mercantilism.

A minister who oversees the annual pageant at a large church on the Upper East Side of Manhattan told me that her church used to give the role of Virgin Mary to the daughter of that year's highest donor. But, she hastened to add, they stopped doing that when competition among the parents started to sour the mood.

The author also describes donations of high-end fabrics for costumes and the occasional designer-clad Wise Man.

All of this sounds like a bad TV Christmas special, but it's interesting to see this come right now, when we're hearing so much about budget Christmases and churches are hurting from charity cutbacks. Will the donations and the cloth of gold dry up? Will everyone learn the true spirit of Christmas? Or, like the pageants themselves, is the lure of the ultimate leading lady too strong a tradition to overthrow?
Bethlehem Does Broadway [Slate]

ProActiv Solution



Potpourri


Deodorant


Chia Pet


Nose Hair Clipper


Scrunchie


Love: Poems by Danielle Steele

Earlier: Ultimate Terrible Gift Guide: Part 1

A few jobs ago, I was trying to ingratiate myself with my newish coworkers during the holiday fete. I didn't really fit in and I didn't know anyone particularly well, so I kept trying to join conversations that were already going on. I entered one such convo in media res, and the subject was Wicca. Boorishly, I heard "Wicca" mentioned and blurted out, "Oh my God, do you know any Wiccans? I thought they were all 13-year-old goths." To which one of the conversants responded: "Yes, my wife is Wiccan." Rut roh! I violated one of the major rules of polite workplace relations, which is avoid topics like religion and politics.

But I'm not the only one to have holiday party horrors. A friend really wanted to attend her company's holiday party, and well…there's no way to put it delicately. She had had an abortion earlier that day, and went anyway. She was bleeding heavily and so got drunk off a glass of white wine she had to be taken home. AWKWARD.

That tale is a doozy, but certainly you have your own experiences of drunken workplace calamities. Please, do tell!

Miled' Oh! [NYP]
Office Party Politics [The Root]

Picture of Yourself



Gift Certificate For "Meal With Me, On You"



Salad Spinner



Unsolicited Gym Membership



Socks



Book of Limericks



Things People Are Allergic To



Uncut Sheet Of $1 Bills



Nips

Apparently some people put a ton of thought into Thanksgiving looks: the founders of Juicy are sporting, according to Friedman, "Martha Stewart-tastic" and "Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire" looks, respectively. As Friedman points out, despite the holiday's devotion to gluttony, "it has an oddly ascetic edge, having been initiated by the Pilgrims, who tended to come to the table in their white collars and buttoned-up black dresses." Since we now know that turkey, pumpkin and corn may not have in fact had anything to do with the first Thanksgiving, dressing in John Smith costumes seems unnecessary. As does, for that matter, the purchase of the Miu Miu dress at which the author arrives — "round-necked, with a little white collar; mid-calf, but vaguely cheongsam in silhouette, with narrow three-quarter length sleeves; all in batik-like print."

However true that "a suit seems too professional, but a cocktail dress is too party-ish; jeans and trousers are often too casual, and so on," it seems like unless you're at one of those hyper-fancy catered Thanksgivings surrounded by professionally- crafted wheat sheaths (which screams "skirt and sweater"), you can wear whatever you want. Maybe nothing revealing - relatives! - and maybe nothing too fancy - cranberry sauce! - but for the most part, who's judging? Besides, if your house is anything like mine, it is freezing, your mom will be in sweats, and your very sweet elderly relatives will arrive with a dubious Laura Ashley outfit that you end up having to wear anyway. (The self-sacrifice of which is nothing if not Puritan chic.) Friedman feels that the puritan look is appropriate for the current hard times. You know what else is: not thinking about clothes! So, for the most part, give thanks for not having to worry about it: that's what the next six weeks are for.

Give Thanks For Puritan Values [Financial Times]